


Guardian

by astrangerenters



Category: Final Fantasy VIII, Final Fantasy X
Genre: Angst, Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 02:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It'll be a far easier road to Zanarkand without her dead weight holding them back.</p>
<p>[December: AU/Crossover Month, Chocobo Races 2012, Team Ramuh]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darthneko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthneko/gifts).



> Inspired by this prompt:  
> Crossover? I'd love to see the Garden team as Summoner & Guardians instead. And I'd love to see it NOT be Rinoa as the Summoner - not that she couldn't be in the team (I'm fine with her) but that Sorceress=Summoner is too easy. Maybe Selphie instead? Or one of the guys? (and I can SO see Zell as a blitzball player!) Just a little slice about them on their pilgrimage somewhere would be great. 
> 
> Hi darthneko, I really loved this prompt! I hope a Squall and Rinoa snippet is ok :)

She waits until everybody's gone to sleep. It'll be easier this way, maybe.

As quietly as she can, Rinoa lifts her pack and tiptoes out of the camp as the last embers of their campfire dwindle. Zell's snoring is almost louder than the odd noises that shoopuf made as they crossed the water earlier that day. She should never have come this far. She's never been this far from home, and crossing the Moonflow only made it all the more obvious. She's out of her depth entirely.

Pyreflies, she sees as she heads down the bank. As far as the eye can see in the darkness, their shimmering glow is the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. She'll return with the memory of them, the memories she's made on this short journey. And hopefully they'll be able to forget her and how she just held them back.

But she discovers that even slipping away in the middle of the night is something she's terrible at, because she stumbles through the brush and disturbs Squall where he's sitting on the bank, staring out at the pyreflies. She can just about make out his face, his hair, and the machina sword that never leaves his sight resting beside him.

"Going somewhere?"

Her hands tighten around the straps of her pack. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" she asks him. "Summoners probably need more rest than anyone, right? You know. So you can...summon and stuff."

He's usually a guy of few words. Very few words, but he pats the dirt beside him. An order for her to sit down. She moves through some of the reeds along the Moonflow bank, walking to his other side. She'd rather not get near that sword, his most prized possession. She sits down, crossing her legs and clutching her pack in her arms.

He's not looking at her when he speaks again. "You're leaving?"

She's caught red-handed now. "I was taking a walk."

"With all your stuff?"

She flushes under his scrutiny. Because Squall is Squall, he doesn't seem to mind that she doesn't answer right away. Maybe he doesn't even care what her reasons are. Maybe he figures it's good that she's taking off, leaving the Guardian stuff to the actual Guardians.

Maybe he's even glad. It'll be a far easier road to Zanarkand without her dead weight holding them back.

"I'm going back to Luca," she says quietly. She can already imagine the satisfaction on her father's face, the "I told you so" look he'll give her before he locks her up in the house for good this time. No more adventures. "I can't keep up, I know that. The fiends. I just can't fight the way you all can. And I don't know why I ever thought I could."

She thinks back to them finding her in the first place, trailing behind them on the Highroad like some groupie. They'd saved her then, saved her from the fiends she hadn't anticipated, saved her from the tedium of her father's house. But Squall's pilgrimage...it's their pilgrimage, too. All of them are so willing to lay down their lives for him - they've earned their places at his side, shed their blood for him. 

And what's Rinoa done? Gotten in the way. The summoner's pilgrimage is no place for an amateur.

"They'll be mad," Squall says, sounding completely indifferent. "The others."

But not you, Rinoa knows. Squall will probably rejoice. "You're going to like me," she'd teased him on their first meeting. She's never been more wrong in her life.

"I'm just not cut out to be a Guardian. I'm sorry it took so long for me to realize that." She can feel the tears burning in her eyes. Too slow, too weak. She can't call on the fiend's powers like Quistis can, she can't strike with Zell's speed. She can't guard them like Irvine can, can't heal them like Selphie can.

"Squall, I'm sorry for wasting your time."

She stumbles to her feet. Maybe she can find another crossing further downstream. Maybe she should just swim for it.

"Wait."

Rinoa stops, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. His voice is always serious, but she's never heard it like this before. He almost sounds sad. She can't turn back to look at him. Every day he's one step closer to death, one step closer to throwing his life away to try and save them all. To save her.

"You probably wouldn't make it to Djose in one piece," he says.

She turns around, smarting at his matter-of-fact tone. "I can run. I can hide. I've gotten pretty good at that the past few weeks."

The pyreflies on the bank seem to be surrounding him, dancing around his ankles. They know what he is, what he can do. How special he is. She's come to like them, all of them, during their time together. She wishes she hadn't grown so attached so quickly. She wishes she hadn't grown so attached to _him_.

"I'll be here," he tells her.

"What do you mean?"

He gets to his feet, lifting the machina blade. A summoner with a sword. It's hard not to be attracted. There will surely be songs about him. After he's gone.

"I'll be here," he repeats again, stabbing at the ground with the sword. "That's what you promised, right? 'I'll be here for you, Squall. From here to Zanarkand. You'll find me. Right here.'"

That night on the Highroad, sitting together outside the travel agency in the moonlight. She'd sworn an oath to guard him with her life. And he'd just rolled his eyes. But now he's throwing it back at her, challenging her to own up to her vow.

"I'm holding you back..."

"You're not," he says. 

She finds the cool metal of her mother's ring, clutching it in her fingers. The chain she'll never take off. She's nothing like her mother. She's no Guardian.

"I'd have to talk more," he admits. "If you leave. If there's five of us and not six, I'll have to make conversation more. Can't concentrate on the pilgrimage if I have to, I don't know, pretend I care about Zell's favorite blitzball team."

She bites back a smile. He doesn't want her to leave. He just doesn't know how to say it. Squall's good with a sword, with summoning. With wanting to save the world. People, though. People are problematic.

"I'm a pretty terrible Guardian," she says.

"I know," he replies bluntly.

"Squall!"

"But I can fix that," he answers quickly. "I can teach you the basics. At night, away from the camp. Nothing to be embarrassed about if the others don't know."

She doesn't bother to wipe her tears this time. They're happy ones now. "And in exchange? You want me to talk to them so you don't have to?"

He grins. 

She holds out her hand. "You've got a deal. I'll be here," she says.

"You'll be here?" He takes her hand, and it feels right.

"I promise."


End file.
